Loyalty
by Broken.Bird.Nightingale
Summary: "Irvine Kinneas had never been so worried in his life. Never. But watching Commander Squall Leonhart – his Squall Leonhart, - lay so still on that bed, so pale and stiff, he couldn't be anything but a worried mess." Squall is severely injured, and Irvine refuses to leave him until the moment he opens his eyes. Squall is, after all, his best friend. Slight yaoi/shounen-ai.


Disclaimer: Now, if I owned FF VIII, I wouldn't really write fanfiction of this stuff.

A/N: Hai. So. Yeah. Fanfictions. Yay!

Warnings: Mm, sadness? A hint of shounen-ai/yaoi, whatever you like to call it. It doesn't even have to be that, it could just be friendship, really.

Oh, and I listened to Zelda Twilight Princess' Snowpeak Mountain music while writing this. It may help set a sad mood if ye are up for it.

* * *

It was cold. Despite the window being pushed open, allowing the warm sun to filter through in a golden waterfall, it was still cold in the dimly lit room. A heavy, thick cold that made it seem like it was hard to breathe when it wasn't really hard to breathe at all.

Maybe it was the unsteady beeping of the heart monitor that echoed in an unpleasant monotone that made the chill seem so claustrophobic. That's what Irvine had decided, as he sat hunched over in the uncomfortable chair he had pushed up close to the bed in the middle of the room.

"Come on, darlin'… you promised me that dinner out, right? My choice on where we go. You promised me. Don't you dare back out on that now." his southern drawl faltered slightly as his hand reached out to hold the bruised one in front of him. "…Squall, if anything wake up and tell me I'm an idiot for remembering such a stupid little thing at a time like this…"

No response, as expected.

The sharpshooter sighed quietly and took off his trademark cowboy hat, balancing it on his knee before he slid off his coat, draping it neatly over the back of the chair he sat on. Then he proceeded to mess with a loose strand of auburn hair that had come free from his ponytail between two fingers, his other hand still gripping onto the bruised one. His deep blue-purple eyes stared at the figure on the bed.

Irvine Kinneas had never been so worried in his life. Never. But watching Commander Squall Leonhart – _his _Squall Leonhart, - lay so still on that bed, so pale and stiff, he couldn't be anything but a worried mess.

The Commander – no, Squall, he wasn't just a commander – looked so… helpless. So _vulnerable_. Squall and vulnerable never went into the same sentence. If it did you were saying how he was anything _but_ vulnerable.

But now, as he watched the younger SeeD sleep, Irvine's whole image of the lion-hearted gunblader cracked into pieces.

No one would expect to see Squall in such a susceptible state. No one would expect to see him wrapped up in so many bandages and hooked up to so many monitors. He was unconscious to the point where you could scream in his ear and he wouldn't twitch. It wasn't right. No one in a million years would think to see him like that. No one, because it seemed almost impossible. Squall looked and went about like he was invincible – and he kept up that front so expertly.

It broke the cowboy's heart to look at the already-red cloth that wrapped tightly around an ugly and deep wound on Squall's torso, to look at the countless bruises and other bindings on different wounds scattered on his arms and legs. It broke his heart so much, to see his Squall Leonhart in so much pain despite the sedatives pumped into his bloodstream.

It broke his heart to think he couldn't help his Squall in any way but to sit there and cry.

The sharpshooter could hardly keep his tears at bay as he gripped the scarred brunet's hand tighter, heart twisting in a pain.

With a quiet sniff and desperate breath, he brought Squall's paled, bruised knuckles to his lips and gently pressed them together in a soft and pleading kiss. "…promise me, darlin', that you won't leave me all alone. You got that? Forget dinner, Squall, you promise me you won't leave me all alone and _I'll_ take _you_ to dinner instead. Anywhere you want to go, just you and me…" he lowered the younger SeeD's hand and rubbed his wet eyes, sniffing again. "Just you and me, darlin'… but you have to wake up first…"

Squall didn't move a muscle, the heartbeat monitor still beeping in a wavering beat. His pale face remained smooth and somewhat relaxed, eyebrows slanted just slightly towards his scar so it looked as if he were scowling.

Irvine's eyes closed, heavy with sadness as he rested his arm and head on an unoccupied space on the bed. His thumb stroked Squall's fingers gently, careful not to agitate the purple and black bruises adorning them.

He stayed like that for a while, listening to the lion-hearted boy's wheezing breath and occasional whimpers. He stayed like that when the doctor came in to do a few more tests, and when Zell and Selphie and Quistis came in to check up on their Commander. He even stayed like that to miss dinner, just to be next to his brunet in case he would happen to wake up.

He didn't.

But the sharpshooter refused to move away from his Squall.

He would sit there to the end of time and beyond if it meant not leaving him alone like that.

Irvine Kinneas was loyal to Commander Squall Leonhart and wouldn't dream of leaving him.

And so he didn't.

* * *

A/N: Should I leave this as a oneshot or make it a chapter-story?


End file.
